Oblivious
by The Feisty Rogue
Summary: Draco was ranting about Potter. Again.


The Friendship Challenge

Prompt: being there and listening to a friend's ranting

Fortnightly Event: Love in Motion Trio Paring

 **Oblivious**

* * *

"And have you seen his eyes?" Draco cried, throwing his hands up in frustration. He was striding back and forth before the Common Room fire. There was a pause, and Blaise realised that Draco was actually waiting for a response.

"Oh yes," he replied, not bothering to look up from where he was filing his nails.

"Exactly! They're just so… so… green. Who even has eyes that green? It's not natural, I'm telling you. And his hair – it's always messy. Doesn't he have even a modicum of decorum? Nobody should be allowed out looking like that. Arg! Bloody Potter. One day I'm going to show him what for. That stupid smile of his – I'm going to knock it off his face. I hate him. I just hate him."

"Mmhmm," Blaise said, exchanging an amused glance with Daphne. She winked at him, passing over her Potions homework, and he passed back his History essay.

"He doesn't even bother with proper robes! Those ugly muggle trousers just cling to him like – like – oh, I don't know, something clingy. They're so form fitting, so tight. It's awful!"

Blaise eyed the perfectly tailored suit trousers Draco wore under his school robe, taking a moment to admire the way they framed his pert arse.

"Indecent," he agreed. Daphne caught him in the act, and raised a brow. Blaise shrugged, and winked at her, before turning back to rewording her Potions assignment into something he could submit as his own.

"And have you see the way he holds his wand?" At this, Blaise barely managed to stifle a snort of laughter. "It's abnormal, how he clutches at it, as if he's holding on for dear life. Ha! No pureblood would ever deign to be so desperately attached to their wand."

"He does have a firm grip upon the shaft," Blaise said. Daphne's eyes were twinkling, but she bowed her head over her parchment, and coughed in order to disguise her giggles.

"Are you alright there?" Draco asked, disinterestedly turning to look at her.

"Quite alright," Daphne said in a strangled voice. Draco resumed his pacing.

"One day, Potter is going to get what's coming to him, and I'm going to be the one to give it to him."

"You do that, Draco. You give it to him, real good," Blaise said, barely managing to keep his face straight. Draco shot him a peculiar look, eyes narrowed as if he could sense that Blaise was mocking him, even if he wasn't sure how. Blaise gazed solemnly back, and Draco nodded his head sharply.

"That's right. I will." Draco slumped into an armchair, and actually took note of what Blaise was doing. "Is that our potions homework? Hand it over, will you?"

Blaise glanced at Daphne, arching an inquisitive brow. She shrugged her acquiescence, so he gave the parchment to Draco.

"Sure, I'm done with it anyway." He began packing his books away, and tapped the cover of a rental that was a due the next day. "I'm taking this back to the library."

"I'll come with you. I fancy stretching my legs," Daphne said. Draco didn't look up, engaged in reading her essay.

"See you later," he mumbled, waving them off. "And curse Potter for me, if you see him."

Blaise's lips twitched, and he offered his arm to Daphne, who took it with the easy grace of the gentlewoman that she was. The moment they left the common room, he snorted with amusement, Daphne giggling beside him.

"When do you think that he's going to realise?"

"What? That he'd like to show Potter exactly how to hold his wand? With our luck, it'll be years."

Daphne was laughing even as she drew him closer, her lips pink and inviting, and Blaise smiled into the kiss. "He's utterly oblivious," she said.

"Mmm," Blaise hummed against her soft mouth. "In the end it's his loss, our gain. He'd never leave us alone if he knew about this."

Daphne dragged her hand down his chest, and he could feel the warmth of it through his shirt.

"Didn't you have a library book to return?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. He groaned when she pulled away from him, and instead linked their arms.

"As my lady commands," he said, and led the way.


End file.
